The Guardian Angel, Part Two
by Justen Matthews
Summary: Morgen is in trouble. She and Nate managed to escape Damien Moreau's clutches, but her brother and the others are still in danger. What's more, the virus Damien gave her is making her weak, and she needs the antidote soon or she will die. She must learn how to work with Nate and to put aside her past if she wants to make it out alive.
1. Chapter 1

Nate rose from his bed groggily. He had spent the night drowning himself in bottles of Irish whiskey until he was so drunk he had passed out. Now he half-wished he hadn't drank so much.

He staggered to the chair he'd thrown his shirt into and bumped into the chest of drawers. He managed to leave the room without stubbing his toe, a small miracle in itself, and walked down the hallway to the living room. He hadn't heard a sound from Morgen all night, but he suspected she didn't sleep much.

She was still on the couch. She opened her eyes when she heard his footsteps. Her face was paler than it had been last night, making her blue eyes seem enormous. They stared blankly at him, and he realized she hadn't slept at all.

"Good morning, Morgen," he said quietly. "How do you feel?"

Morgen sat up slowly and leaned her elbows on her knees, assessing herself. "I don't know."

Nate sat across from her, forcing her to look squarely at him. The hollow look in her eyes made a slight shiver run up and down his spine.

"Think, Morgen. I need you to feel something."

A spark flickered in her face for an instant, then was gone. "What do you want me to feel?"

"Anything, Morgen, anything."

He saw her lips press together and knew she had slipped on the mask she hid behind. "Hungry. Good enough for you?"

"For now. What do you want to eat?"

She blinked. "Oatmeal."

He nodded. "I'll make you some. Stay here, alright? I'll be back."

She blinked again, which he took for understanding. He felt her eyes on the back of his head until he rounded the corner.

When he came back, she had closed her eyelids and leaned her head back, apparently asleep.

"Wake up, Morgen."

She jerked up, then held her stomach and groaned. He handed the steaming bowl of instant oatmeal to her and resumed his position in front of her on the floor. She lifted the spoon to her mouth and back to the oatmeal mechanically. Nate felt a little sorry for her. It was easy to forget, with all her adult mannerisms and tough-girl performance, that she was only eighteen.

She set the empty bowl on the cushion next to her and sighed.

"We'll need to change that bandage," Nate commented.

"I did it every two hours last night and this morning," she replied. "I couldn't sleep."

"Not tired?" A ridiculous question, since she was clearly bordering exhaustion, but he wanted to keep her talking.

"Haunted by ghosts."

"Ah. They didn't happen to have any ideas about what we should do next, did they?"

"They didn't. I spent all night asking." She closed her eyes again. "All night long," she repeated under her breath.

"How are you feeling?"

She stared at him witheringly. "Full."

"Anything else?"

"What would you like me to feel, Nathan Ford?"

"An emotion would be nice. I know you have them, even though you pretend not to."

She smiled tiredly. "And what good will that do?"

"It will keep you sane, Morgen. Right now you're very upset and angry, but you're burying it out of habit. You have to let yourself feel something, or you're going to give up and be unable to help anyone, including yourself."

Her resolve was slipping, he could see it in her face.

"Let it out, Morgen. You aren't with Moreau anymore."

Nate sat next to her and held her to his shoulder. For a few seconds, she resisted, but the sobs broke through. She made no sound when she cried, just shook and gasped occasionally. Nate waited patiently.

"Nate?"

"Mhm."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't keep Damien from catching you." She sat up, wiped her eyes, and stared at her hands.

"You did the best you could, Morgen. Moreau just knew what to expect is all. We'll figure out a plan that he'll never see coming."

"Then you'll have to do it without me."

He opened his mouth to speak.

"Damien created me, Nate. He knows everything I'm thinking, feeling, saying. He'll know what sort of plan I'll have to rescue Eliot and how to catch me again."

"That's where you're wrong."

She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Moreau knows you very well, yes, but only one part of you, the part he made. You weren't always his spy, remember?"

Morgen shook her head incredulously. "And what makes you think those two are any different, or that I would even want to be that person again?"

Nate leaned forward. "Because I keep catching glimpses of her, Morgen. I know that type who works for Moreau. You tried to help the entire team when you really only had to help your brother. I don't think the Morgen Spencer before would've done that."

Morgen cautiously inhaled deeply. "She wouldn't have."

There was silence for a moment. Nate suddenly had a thought.

"Where did you live before you met Moreau?"

"With Eliot."

"Before that."

She was quiet, but her eyes widened and her hands clenched. "Why does that matter?"

"Because, Morgen, I think that version of you is what will help you take down Moreau."

"No. No, it won't."

Nate studied her. "Where did you live before you met Eliot?"

"Why do you need to know?" she demanded. He detected a tremble in her voice.

"Why does thinking about it scare you so much?"

Morgen had a glazed look suddenly, and Nate wished he could see what she was remembering. Her breathing became short, and her whole body began to shake.

"Do you have a memory, Nate," she whispered, "a memory so terrible you hate thinking about it, and when people ask you to talk about it, you can't? Surely you do. You lost Sam. You have a memory like that."

Nate nodded. "I do. But I've talked about it."

"To whom, Nate? To one person, right? The one person who was there, right?" She looked at him, tear traces on her cheeks. "You can't expect me to talk about that when you yourself know I can't."

Nate nodded and wiped the tears from her face. "Fair enough, Morgen."

Morgen pulled away and ran her fingers through her hair, an action Nate recognized as a nervous habit.

"I'll try to think differently than I normally would, Nate. I owe it to Eliot to try."

Nate smiled kindly and patted her shoulder. "That's all I'm asking."

X X X

Eliot sat alone in his cell, hands clasped around his knees, head against the wall. He was used to torture. It had happened to him more than once, and he had learned how to control his thinking and breathing before the interrogations even started.

He could hear nothing through the walls. He had managed to see Moreau's men had driven into a warehouse before a bag was thrown over his head. He didn't know for sure how long he'd been in the cell. It was morning outside, he knew, but that was it.

The handle to his door was unlocked, and Moreau strode in. His goon, the one Morgen had called Cofsky, stood behind him.

"Hello, Spencer."

Eliot nodded, keeping his gaze on the opposite wall.

"We have a few questions for you."

Eliot didn't answer. Cofsky laid a hand on his shoulder. Eliot cocked an eyebrow and glared at the hand. It didn't move.

"Questions 'bout what?" he growled.

"About the location of Nate and your sister. They escaped, thanks to the idiocy of him," he jabbed a finger at Cofsky, "and we think you might be able to help us find them."

"I ain't talkin' to you."

Moreau smiled condescendingly. "Oh I think you will. You see, it's really in your best interests to help us find your sister. In addition to having gotten herself shot, she is going to be in a lot of pain soon, and I am the only one who has the medicine she needs."

"What are you talkin' about?"

"Yes, of course. She never would've told you, her wonderful brother whom she believed would take care of her until the world's end. She knew it would've upset you, and you know she hated doing that."

Eliot felt his heart pound as his mind raced to thousands of possibilities, each more awful than the last.

"Morgen is dying. I had her injected with a rare and deadly disease after you introduced us. She didn't like the idea of serving me unconditionally, so I had to nudge her along a bit. She managed to keep herself alive by stealing a portion of the antidote from me, but she has run out. She has a week left, maybe, and by the time that's up she'll be so weak and sick she'll likely not be able to do more than collapse and wait for death to take her." Moreau crouched down by Eliot's face. "Contrary to what you or she may think, Eliot, I do care about her. She was my best man, after all. I want to find her so I can give her the antidote, that's all."

"You really think I'm going to believe you, Moreau?"

Moreau smiled. "Do you really think I'm going to lie to a Spencer?"

Eliot glared at his enemy with hooded eyes. Moreau held it steadily, then patted Eliot's arm.

"I'll be back tomorrow to see if you've changed your mind. But remember, every day you wait, your sister gets sicker."

The men left the room. Eliot leaned his head back and let out a growl, indecision and fear beginning to gnaw at his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

After her talk with Nate, Morgen felt able to sleep, so she closed her eyes and relaxed her body. When she awoke, it was the middle of the afternoon. Morgen knew she had to get out of the house. The outside was calling to her, so she slipped out when Nate went back to his room and started walking. She didn't care where she went; she just needed to walk somewhere.

The air was crisp. Morgen breathed it in several times, cautious of her sore ribs and stomach.

_I love the smell of fall._

She spotted a tree off in the distance and turned in its direction. It was the only one in the field, and its leaves were a beautiful golden orange. Morgen walked slowly, though she wanted to reach the tree before Nate came looking for her. The afternoon was perfect, and she was trying to make it last as long as she could.

When she reached the tree, she sat down and leaned her head back against the trunk. The bark poked through her hair and a root managed to nudge her leg, but she decided not to care.

_Let your mind drift, Morgen. Answers to your hardest problems always come to you when you aren't thinking about it_._ Eliot needs you._

The face of her brother popped into her mind. She thought about what Moreau might do to him in order to find her and cringed.

_Not that, Morgen. Anything but that._

"Thought I might find you out here."

Morgen opened her eyes and stared at Nate. "I think better outside."

He nodded. "I figured. Have any ideas yet?"

"No. It may take me a long time to think differently than I'm used to, Nate."

"I know. I'm here to help you speed things up a bit."

She snorted. "What did you have in mind?"

Nate smiled. "What is the first thing you want to do, Morgen? What is every instinct telling you to do?"

Morgen didn't have to think very hard. "Rescue Eliot."

"And Moreau will be expecting that move from you, so we can't do that. What is the last thing you want to do?"

"Leave Eliot with Damien."

"So, for now, that is what we are going to do."

Morgen clenched her jaw. "What are we going to do, then?"

"Go to the doctor, then find the antidote."

Morgen frowned. "Why?"

"You are very sick, Morgen. We need to know how long we have, and we need to cure you."

"I know how long I have. I've been to the doctor already."

"When?"

"Three days before I met you. I have a friend who is a doctor. He told me that once the antidote wears off I'll have a week if I spend all my time on a couch, and three days if I exert myself. I'll get weaker as the days go by and be in severe pain."

"Would he know where the antidote is?"

Morgen thought for a moment. "I don't know. He probably would."

"Where can we find him?"

"Downtown."

Nate rose and pulled her up. "Let's go."

"Wait!"

Nate stopped and turned to look at her. She glared at him.

"We shouldn't find the antidote first, Nate. Damien could kill Eliot!"

Nate started to speak.

"Look, I should be secondary to all of this! I don't really care if I die in three days, but I don't want to leave Eliot with Damien any longer."

Nate walked back and held her shoulders. "Listen to me, Morgen. I know you want to take care of your brother, and I understand. But you are not going to be able to help anyone if you can't even speak in three days. You need to think about yourself for right now, and you'll be able to help Eliot better. Understand?"

She nodded reluctantly.

"Good. Now let's go find that friend of yours."

X X X

Morgen walked quickly down the alleys, watching every dark corner and listening with strained ears for any sign of Moreau. Nate followed closely behind her, and he saw by the way she stole glances back she was impressed with how quietly he followed her.

He watched her carefully as they passed several groups of rough-looking men, armed with guns and knowledge of where to dispose a dead body. They eyed her warily, but avoided Morgen when she looked at them. She ignored them for the most part until she saw one she knew. The fellow looked less than thrilled to have been singled out.

"Is Reuben home?" she asked.

He nodded. "Hasn't left since the last time you visited." He raised an eyebrow. "Twice in one month, Morgen? Must have something pretty important to talk to Reuben about, hm?"

Morgen ran her hand up the man's arm. Nate saw him stiffen.

"I don't think I invited you, Tommy, now did I?"

Tommy walked sullenly away, and Nate saw him throw a hateful glance back at Morgen. He wondered how many other people had a grudge against her as she led him to an apartment building.

He followed her up several flights of stairs that led to a partially opened door. Morgen pushed it open, calling, "Reuben! I'm home!"

"In the living room, Nadya!"

Nate frowned at Morgen, who pretended she didn't see.

The apartment was mostly tidy. Nate recognized the usual signs of male living: clothes thrown in chairs, dirty dishes in the sink, and a permanent man smell. Morgen moved through it all easily, seeming more relaxed than she had even with Eliot.

Reuben was sitting on a chair, finishing up his work with someone else. He didn't look up from the arm he was holding, and Morgen waited quietly until the person got up and left before she stepped forward. Reuben stood and smiled until he caught sight of Nate.

"Morgen! I didn't know you brought company," he said nervously. He had a thick Russian accent. He stood about Nate's height, with short blond hair and grey eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"He's a friend, Reuben," she explained. "And I need your help again."

Reuben's face fell. "What's happened, Morgen? You look upset."

Morgen smiled. "We need to find the antidote. I thought you might know where it is."

He pressed his lips together. "Moreau didn't give you the dose he promised?"

"You really thought he would?" she spat out bitterly. "Do you know where to find it or not, Reuben? I don't have much time."

Reuben did something that surprised Nate very much. He wrapped his arms around Morgen and held her close to his chest, burying her petite form. Morgen's body relaxed, and she hugged him tightly. Nate took a step back and waited quietly. He heard them whispering to each other.

Morgen pulled away. "I can't stay, Reuben. Do you know where I can find the antidote?"

"I do. A Doctor Turner has acquired a large stash of it recently shipped from Europe. It's locked up in a safe somewhere in his offices."

"Of course it is. They can't ever just leave things out for me to take, can they?"

Reuben smiled. "You wouldn't have so much fun if they did."

She shook her head. "No. I guess I wouldn't."

She turned to go, but his hand stopped her.

"I'm coming with you," he told her. Morgen pushed him away, laughing.

"You can't come with us, Reuben! I'm dealing with an enemy who would love to get a hold of you if it would mean he could control me. You cannot come."

"Then you must promise me something."

"Anything, Reuben," she said more subdued.

"You must come find me after this is over. I need to know that you're safe. Promise me."

Morgen's smile shook as her lip trembled. "I promise."

He let her go, and Nate had to move quickly to keep up with the retreating figure who whisked herself out the door. She didn't slow down until they had reached her car and drove away from the dark alleys.

"His name isn't Reuben, is it?" Nate asked.

She didn't answer. He saw a small, sad smile tug at the corner of her mouth and decided to keep going.

"And Morgen isn't your real name either. He called you Nadya when we walked in." He studied her face. "How long have you known him?"

Morgen gripped the steering wheel more tightly, but she chuckled. "A very long time. I have connections to the Irish mob and the Russians, and I changed my name so they wouldn't find me. Reuben has a similar story, but I'm not telling you his real name without permission. His name does not have anything to do with this, Nate. We know where the antidote is now, and we should concentrate on finding it without getting ourselves killed by Dr. Turner's security system."

She paused, pressing her lips together. "When this is all over, Nate, I'll give you my real name. Then you can find out all you want to know about me. Now, I know you must have some knowledge about Dr. Turner."

"Nope. Hardison does that sort of thing."

"Hm. Too high and mighty to do it yourself, I see. Fortunately for you, I know Turner. He's worked for Damien for forever. Has a security system he designed especially for his building. He's a doctor, but he's also a mad scientist, always trying to find new ways to make people sick and cure them again. He'll sell the poison and the antidote to whichever despot wants to stir a little trouble for his enemies and keep himself from harm. He's lived in Boston for all of his adult life, but he's from Cincinnati. He must miss it terribly, because he visits every summer. Since he just got that shipment of antidote, though, he'll definitely be in his offices. His next step will be to find a willing sucker to test his latest drug on."

"You know a lot about him."

She shrugged. "I know a great deal about everybody. Now, his building is in the heart of Boston. He likes to be the center of attention. But we can't run a con of any sort, Nate. For one thing, we have no time or resources. For another, Turner is incredibly perceptive. He'd know I was up to something if I tried anything. We'll have to break into his vault and steal the antidote the old-fashioned way."

Nate nodded. "Where are we going now?"

"A hideout where I've put my gear. We can't go back to my place. Damien will have sent Cofsky to watch it."

"I see you've gotten everything figured out." Nate raised an eyebrow. "Would you like me to throw in some suggestions, or would you rather I stay quiet and let you handle things again?"

Morgen sighed. "Old habits die hard, Nate. I'm not used to having someone as competent as I am with me. Sorry."

"I agree with you. We don't have enough time to make a good con. How well do you know the layout of Turner's building?"

"I could draw it out for you."

"Good. You can steal the antidote, and I'll distract the guards and Turner."

"There are no guards. The security system has eyes everywhere, and it only needs humans to arrest the burglars that manage to break in. Distracting Turner will be difficult, Nate. He works with con men and low-lives for a living. He'll see through any lies you tell him."

"You sound as though you've stolen from him before."

She gave a barking laugh. "I've stolen more than one antidote from Turner before. I was always by myself, though. Maybe this time I'll be out in record time."


	3. Chapter 3

Morgen typed furiously on her laptop in her hideout. Nate sat somewhere behind her, doing something with his clothes. Morgen didn't really care.

"He won't be there tonight," she said.

Nate's voice was muffled. "What?"

"Turner won't be at his building tonight. He's going to a party out in the country."

Nate came up behind her and read the screen she had up. Morgen leaned away, feeling the hair on the back of her neck start to rise.

"Hm. That changes things a bit." He stepped back and crossed his arms. Morgen relaxed.

"Not really. It makes things a bit easier for us. This means I can hack the security system and you can steal into the vault. Or," she grinned a little mischievously, "would you rather I steal the antidote and you hack the computer?"

She glanced at him, hoping he heard the jest in her voice. He chuckled.

"No, I'll let you do what you do best, and I'll follow your direction."

Morgen pressed her lips together, realizing the trust he was placing in her again.

"Why, Nate?" she asked. "Why do you trust me? I screwed up majorly last time."

Nate pursed his lips and squatted down next to her. "Yeah, you did. But I believe in second chances. This is yours." He patted her knee and left for the other room where the kitchen was. Morgen guessed he was going after her two bottles of Scotch. She drew in a deep breath and nodded to herself.

_Alright, Nate. I won't let you down again._

X

Morgen pulled the collar of her turtleneck up a little closer to her chin. It was later that night, and she stood across the street of the building where Turner worked. The few employees who worked there were getting ready to leave; she could see them through the windows. She looked both ways and crossed the road quickly, stopping when she came to the side of the building. She put a finger to her ear to make sure the earpiece she wore had stayed in place.

"Nate, I'm almost inside. Remember, wait until I've disabled the alarms and found a back door for you before you try to come in."

"I know, Morgen."

Morgen saw the first of the employees leave the building. She sprinted to the ventilation shaft she had utilized several times before, removed the cover, and threw herself inside. She wriggled her body through the tight space until she came to a vent in a wall. She listened for three seconds, then removed the cover and let it fall silently to the carpeted floor. One hand reached out and pushed against the wall, the other against the ceiling. Pressing her forearms against the edge of the vent, she slid her legs out and wedged herself in the corner in the wall.

"Morgen, you in yet?"

Morgen grunted. "I'm in the building, yes, but I'm not in yet. Shut up, I'm in a tight spot."

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath to steady herself.

"Ok, I'm on the floor than I need to be on, but the floor is weight-sensitive. I'll need to make my way to the room where all of Turner's security computers are."

"And you're going to do that how? Climb through the vent until you reach the room?"

Morgen's foot slipped. She caught it just before she slid down the wall and cursed quietly.

"You alright?"

"Peachy. And no, Turner is smart enough to know not to leave vents poking out too near the rooms that have value. I'll have to climb along the walls to get there. Cross your fingers or whatever you do and hope I don't slip."

She lifted her fingers. They stuck like suction cups to the wall. For the next five minutes, she crept down the hallway wall, keeping herself pushed into awkward angles so her fingers could stick. Nate was silent, much to her relief.

The door she wanted came into view.

"Okay," she said quietly without realizing she spoke, "there's a spot in front of the door where the sensors don't reach. I have to land on it precisely and pick the lock, then run across the room and disable the alarms. I'll have thirty seconds at the most."

"You know I can hear you, right? And it sounds like a risky plan."

A stab of pain shot through her side, taking her breath away. Morgen made a face. "Yeah, I know. I don't have any other ideas. Stop talking; let me concentrate."

She assessed her position from the spot on the wall she had stopped on. The door was directly underneath her. She pressed herself against the wall, then pushed away and dropped straight down, landing in front of the door. She only hesitated for an instant to make sure she hadn't set off the alarms before she drew out a bobby pin and picked the lock. Then she sprinted across the room, ignoring the spear of pain running through her middle. A bell rang frantically.

_Alarm bell. Won't go to the police for about thirty seconds. It'll reach Turner's phone in twenty-five. There's the computer._ She sat down at a computer._ USB port is right there. Gotta put my memory stick in here…_

She pulled out the card she had stored Moreau's documents on. She paused.

_Forgot I had this. Might come in handy soon._

She put her memory stick in the port and watched the screen turn on. Her fingers moved quickly. The bell stopped ringing.

"I'm in, Nate."

"Good. Where do I go?"

"Are you still at the front door?"

"Yeah."

"Go around to the back. There will be a door open for you. And we have to move fast."

"Why? I thought you said you disabled the alarms."

"I did, and I also made sure Turner won't see us through the camera feed he can get on his phone. But I've learned that you never have as much time as you think you have. Or need."

She heard Nate's breathing as he ran around the building.

"Now what?"

Morgen directed him through the deserted hallways, up several flights of stairs, and to the door of the vault.

"Okay, Nate, put the device I gave you on the keypad next to the door. It'll transmit a shot of the screen to me so I can see it."

A small screen appeared in the left-hand corner of the computer, showing the keypad.

_Turner, Turner, Turner. What would you put as a passcode? Six digits. A date._

"Type in 062905."

She saw Nate's finger punch in the code. The light turned green.

"How did you get that so fast?"

"I'm good at what I do. Turner is a pompous pig. That code is the date of the day he made an antidote that worked. Don't ask me how I know that. Open the door and tell me what you see."

"It's a room with a floor of tiles that look like they have computer technology running through them."

Morgen cursed. "Okay, that means Turner has the floor triggered to go off when someone steps on it." She rubbed her forehead. Her side clenched, and she swore again as she drew in a breath. "Hang on, Nate," she gasped out.

"What's wrong?"

Morgen gritted her teeth. _I'm dying, no big deal really._ "I'm trying to find the cameras that'll show me the room you're in." She grunted and held her side.

"Take a breath, Morgen. You can't help me if you can't move."

"I'm… I'm okay. I can't wait for this to go away, Nate; it probably won't anyway. I'm alright." She sucked in air. "I've got the cameras up." She studied the screen intently, grinding her teeth. "Wonderful, Turner, thank you for making every step difficult.

"Nate I'm going to shut down the alarms. Don't move."

Another screen popped up. Morgen typed for several seconds, then glanced at the image of the vault where Nate stood. The floor, which had been glowing before, turned dark.

"Go ahead, Nate."

"What am I looking for?"

"The room is a vault for Turner's antidotes. The walls are lined with boxes that I can open from in here. The boxes all have different antidotes with them—"

"Okay okay okay, I don't need a full tour."

Morgen was silent as she worked. "The box you need will open," she pressed a button, "now."

She watched Nate walk cautiously over to the box she had opened and peer inside.

_Perfect. Everything is working out… so well…_

"Morgen! We have a bit of a problem."

"What is it?" she asked faintly.

"There's nothing here. There's a label, so it must be the right box, but there's nothing here."

Morgen felt light-headed. She leaned against the table. "Reuben said Turner just got the shipment of the antidote. Someone else beat us to it. Nate…"

She glanced at the screen again. She started. "Nate?"

The screen showed the room, but with three other men surrounding Nate.

_Cofsky. Damien knows I'm here. Of course he does. I've got to get out of here._

Instinct took over. She jumped to her feet and tried to run across the room. The clenching muscles in her side forced her to lean against the wall, gasping and hitting the wall in frustration.

"Nate? Nate, can you hear me?!"

"Morgen! Moreau's—AUGH!"

Morgen whirled around and watched as Cofsky and his men brought Nate down.

"Morgen, I know you can hear me!"

Her face flushed.

"Moreau wants you to know that if you give yourself up now, he will be forgiving and let you come home."

_Come home, huh? That's a nice way to put it. If I turned myself in, Damien would have all of us together and not wait to kill us. There's no way I'm doing that._

She looked around, suddenly realizing she had run out to the hallway and was almost to the ventilation shaft she had come in by.

_Stop, Morgen! What about Nate? You can't just leave him. But what am I supposed to do?_ She paused just in front of the vent, panting. _What can I do? I can hardly keep myself upright. There's no way I can help Nate, and Eliot is doomed if I get captured. I have to get out and figure out a way to help them._

Morgen jumped up to the vent and dragged herself through. She didn't' stop moving until she had cleared the building, got into her car, and driven back to the apartment she and Nate had stopped in to grab her gear. She burst in the door and leaned against the kitchen counter.

_What did I do wrong?!_

She felt hot tears of rage and frustration well up behind her eyes, the pressure adding to the pain she felt in her side. She let out a wild cry and hit her fist on the wall.

_Damien knew we would be there. I can't do anything without him knowing what will happen!_

Her breath caught in her throat and came out as a sob. Morgen crumpled to the dirty floor.

_Nate trusted me. I let him down again._

The tears wouldn't stop, so she let them flow. "I'm so sorry, Nate," she said softly into her hands. "I'm so sorry."

Morgen stayed in that position for the rest of the night, eventually falling asleep and dreaming of Moreau's men beating Nate and Eliot.

Cofsky ripped the mask off Nate's face. A trickle of blood ran down his chin. Moreau, his mouth pressed in a thin line, towered over Nate.

"Well, Nathan Ford, you are now my prisoner. Let that just settle in for a minute." He paused. "Now, where is Morgen?"

"What's… the matter, Moreau?" Nate asked, breathing heavily. "You and your thugs having a hard time finding a little girl?"

The remark earned him another series of blows. Moreau placed his hands on the arms of the chair and sneered in Nate's face.

"That little girl is Morgen Spencer, the best spy I've ever created. She's perfect. Bold, cunning, quick-thinking, and best of all, afraid of no one but me. I know everything she's doing, everything she's thinking, and I know how to stop her. Thanks to you, however, she is now running wild and is unpredictable. Where is she?"

"Let me ask you something, Moreau. Why is it so important to you that you find her? She left you and wanted to stay away. She wasn't bothering you, and you are now bending over backwards to find her."

Moreau glared at Nate. "That is none of your business."

"I think I know why." Nate straightened. "You created the perfect spy, but she doesn't want to work for you anymore. You can't bear the thought of losing to someone so easily, especially if that person is a girl. But I will tell you something, Moreau. Morgen Spencer is not who you think she is. She's buried herself for years, and I simply showed her how to be herself. I would watch my back if I were you."

"Morgen has hit rock bottom, Nate. Everything she's tried has been thought of by me, and she now feels helpless against me. The only thing I will be watching for is her running back to me, begging me to heal her."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't hold my breath," Nate said quietly.

A vein stood out on Moreau's face. "Morgen is going to die if you do not tell me where she is. Is that what you want?"

Nate said nothing more. He stared at Moreau hard until he stood up and looked away.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Nate, and I hope you will be more cooperative. Every minute you wait, the sicker Morgen gets."


	4. Chapter 4

When Morgen awoke the next morning, the pain in her side had increased. Gingerly, she picked herself up off the floor and tried to stand.

_Wonderful. Things can't get much worse, can they?_

As if to answer her question, her cell phone rang in her pocket. She pulled it out and read the number.

_Note to self: don't challenge life by asking such questions._ "Hello, Damien."

"Morgen, dear." She shuddered listening to his silky smooth voice. "I trust you slept well last night."

"Cut the crap, Damien. What do you want?"

"Why do you torture yourself like this, Morgen? You know all you have to do is come back to me and I can heal you. That's all you have to do."

Morgen gripped her phone in a stranglehold. "Cofsky told me you didn't have the antidote, Damien. Someone beat us to the supply Turner had. You can't heal me. You can't do anything for me!"

"Cofsky doesn't know what he's talking about. Who do you think took the antidote from Turner?"

"I don't believe you."

"Well, you don't have much of a choice. You have little time left. I imagine you've started feeling the side effects already. Your insides burning, extreme tiredness, general weakness. How much longer do you imagine you have before you can't even stand up?"

Morgen took a breath to calm herself. "If you called me to tell me things I already know, you've wasted your time. I am not going to come crawling back to you."

"Not even for your friends?"

Morgen clenched her teeth so hard her jaw popped. "You canNOT make me! I am not your puppet anymore!"

"Don't you start getting wild ideas into your head!" She could hear the snarl she knew was on his face. "You are mine, and you always will be mine. You can't believe anything Nathan Ford has told you."

"What have you done to them? Where is Eliot?"

"Oh they're here. For now. I'm willing to bargain for them with you if you comply from here on."

"I'll comply when hell freezes over! And I swear, Damien, if you hurt my brother or his friends, I am going to rip you to pieces."

"Violent, as always. Think about it, Morgen, and let me know. I'll be waiting."

The line went dead. Morgen found she was shaking and sat down.

"He's right," she told herself, "I don't have much time. And I can't do anything to hurt Damien, either. He knows what I'm doing."

She balled her hand into a fist. "I'm so tired of that excuse!" She jumped up and smacked the wall. Then she stopped and looked at her palm, shocked by her sudden outburst.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked the chair. "I'm normally more composed than this."

_You can do something about this._

She frowned. She hadn't talked like that to anyone for years.

_Damien knows what he trained you to do, but he doesn't know what you will do to him if you act otherwise. You can stop him. You are the only one who can, after all._

"And what in the world can I do that would take out his guards and put him behind bars again?"

_The only thing you were trained never to do. Take him on directly. No more sneaking around. Break your brother and the team out and confront Damien. He will never expect that._

Morgen paced up and down, warming up to the idea and perfecting it for hours. Then, she gathered up all her gear and slipped out the door.

X

The warehouse Moreau used as a prison was located several hours outside the city in a suburb. Morgen remembered when she helped him take over the company that previously owned the warehouse.

_Weird that the person I care about are now trapped inside. _

Morgen tapped her fingers against the steering wheel impatiently. Now that she knew what she wanted to do, every passing second felt like forever.

_Once I'm there, I'll break my brother and the team out so they can get away safely, then I'll go see Damien._ She had a brief imagining of Damien's face when she stormed in. _I may have to take a moment to gloat._

The sounds and lights of the city faded away, and Morgen soon found herself in the soothing semi-darkness of the suburbs. The city always made her feel claustrophobic, and the open country brought back too many memories. She and Reuben had spent hours talking about where they would live after they escaped their dark pasts.

_Reuben. _She smiled. She had known him before she met Eliot. He was a part of those shady memories she refused to tell Nate. She didn't usually think about him, but for some reason, she couldn't get him out of her head.

_I told him I would find him when this is over. He's going to be furious with me if I show up at his place without the antidote. He would take care of me, of course, but after what he's done for me already, I'm not going to do that to him._ Her smile withered. _I'm not going to find him unless I have the antidote._

She turned down a street a block away from the warehouse and parked her car. She would go from here on foot.

The streetlights cast an eerie orange glow on the asphalt. Morgen snuck to a dark corner and peered around the edge at the side door of the warehouse. The door had no guards, but two cameras on either side of the door would see her if she stepped out into the light. She reached into a pocket, took out a tiny device, aimed it at the wires in the back of the cameras, and pressed a button. There was a high pitched whine that made her ears ache. The device sent off a high-frequency jolt at the lenses, completely shattering them and making them blind. The door proved no trouble for Morgen, either, especially since it was unlocked.

She ran on the balls of her feet, keeping her footfalls silent. She knew every inch of this place, but experience told her to use more caution than normal.

_Right turn here, then through this hall and another right. _This led her to a long corridor with doors all the way down. _Dangit. I don't have much time. There's no reason why I haven't met anyone up to this point, and I'm bound to have one grab me while I'm picking all of these locks._ After giving a quick look at the ceiling to make sure there were no cameras, she jumped into the air and landed as hard as she could. Her feet made a significant thump. No sooner had she landed than she raced down the hall and listened with strained ears for a sound.

She was not disappointed. Footsteps sounded behind a door on her right. Instantly, she began to work on the lock.

"Who's in there?" she called as loudly as she dared.

"Who's out there?" a soft British voice replied.

_Sophie. Why did it have to be her first?_

The door swung open, and Morgen shut it behind her as she went in. "It's me, Sophie," she started, but the older woman stopped her with a fierce slap across the face.

"How dare you show your face here!" she hissed. "After what happened at Moreau's place! What are you doing here?"

Morgen rubbed her sore cheek, backing away from Sophie. "I'm here to rescue your sorry butt, but if you'd rather I leave you here in this comfy cell, I'll gladly do so."

Sophie was seething. Morgen glanced around at the tiny cot in a corner and the white walls. "Enjoy your time in here, Sophie? You must've since you want to stay so badly."

Sophie slapped her again. "Shut up, you little git!"

Morgen clamped her hand around Sophie's mouth. "You shut up! You want Damien to hear you and come running? I only have a few moments before a guard makes a round through here. Do you want to get out of here or not?"

Her palms were sweaty, even though they were icy cold. She felt Sophie scrutinizing her and let her see that she was trembling. Morgen didn't care anymore. Sophie nodded and took the hand from her mouth.

"I'll go with you, Morgen, but I'm going only to make sure you don't get us caught again."

"Whatever. Just be quiet."

Morgen and Sophie slipped out of the room, throwing quick glances over their shoulders.

"Do you know where the others are?" Morgen whispered.

Sophie shook her head.

"Of course not. Oh well, only a minor problem. Go to the door and knock softly and see if any of your friends answer."

Sophie didn't look pleased with Morgen directing her, but she obeyed anyway. Morgen did the same, calling softly, "Hello? Anyone in there?"

Another voice answered. "Morgen?"

_Sweet mother of everything holy, it's Eliot._

Morgen's fingers shook almost uncontrollably as she worked to pick the lock. It clicked open, and she rushed into her brother's arms. He held her tightly. She pressed her nose into his shoulder. She felt her determination to follow through with her plan begin the melt, so she pulled away.

"Come on, you've got to leave," she urged, pulling on his sleeve.

"Morgen, are you okay?"

"Of course I—" She saw the look on his face and stopped. "Why?"

"Moreau said…"

"Morgen! I've found the others!" Sophie called.

Morgen gratefully avoided her brother's question and went to take care of the locks. Soon the Leverage team stood together in the room Nate had been put into. Morgen grimaced as she looked at the cuts and bruises on Nate's face.

"You all must leave now!" she said urgently. "Interpol will be here soon, and I don't want to have to break you out of a prison again."

"Interpol?" Sophie demanded.

"Yes, Sophie, Interpol! I called them to tell them a suspect in several of their unsolved crimes is here, and they'll take anyone they find here, no exceptions. You have to go!"

"And what are you doing?"

Morgen glared at Eliot. "Taking care of Damien."

"I don't think so. I'm coming with you."

Morgen shook her head vigorously. "This doesn't concern you. You have to leave."

"You're sick, Morgen," Nate reminded softly. "You won't be able to get out in time."

Morgen's gaze became icy. "I'm going to do this, Nate, even if I die trying. I can take care of myself."

"And I'm coming with you," Eliot insisted.

Morgen bit her tongue. "Fine. But only you. Everyone else needs to get out here."

Voices sounded outside the door.

"I'm tellin' you, I heard someone out in the hallway."

"There's no one out here, you paranoid idiot!"

Eliot glanced at his sister and cracked his knuckles. "Sounds like my cue."

Morgen nodded. "Wait until we're gone, Nate before leading the others out. There's a side door that I came in by. You can get out that way."

Eliot threw open the door. Three of Cofsky's men stood outside. They started and drew their guns. Morgen sprang at the first, taking him out with a fist to throat. Eliot dodged the second man's gun and broke his elbow. Morgen brought the third one down with several swift blows to the middle and the head. The siblings didn't wait to see if Nate and the others left. Together, they hurried down the hallways.

They stopped to make sure they weren't going to run into an ambush. Morgen leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. A cold sweat dripped down her back, making her shiver as it soaked through her shirt.

"Okay, we're good," Eliot whispered. "Let's go."

Morgen touched his sleeve. "Eliot," she said softly, "in the event that I don't make it out…"

"Don't talk like that." Eliot's voice was hard. "You will make it, and when this is all over you're going to sit down and tell me everything I don't know."

Morgen almost spoke the cutting words on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she forced a smile and laid her head on Eliot's arm.

"Let's go, then. But leave Damien to me. I want to deal with him personally."

Eliot studied her expression. "What are you going to do?"

She clenched her slick hands into fists. "I'll make it up as I go."


	5. Chapter 5

Never had the warehouse seemed as big as it did now to Morgen. Her anticipation made her heart race. She and Eliot ran into several groups of thugs and managed to dispose of them all with minor injuries themselves. Morgen felt adrenaline coursing through her.

_As soon as that wears off I'm going to collapse. Must find Damien and get out before Eliot gets caught._

"His office… is just through those doors," she panted. Eliot nodded. They paused just in front of the doors. Morgen sucked in deep breaths.

"You take care of Cofsky and his goons, and I'll handle Damien." She gave a mirthless laugh. "Can't wait to see his face when I walk in."

She drew her gun and put in the clip.

"Are you going to kill him?" Eliot asked.

Morgen glared at the gun. "Haven't decided yet." Then she kicked open the door.

"Damien Moreau!" she shouted.

Moreau jumped out of his seat in surprise. Cofsky and his men rushed forward, only to be met with Eliot's fists and elbow. Morgen ignored them all and walked towards Moreau, relishing his shock.

"Morgen," he stammered, "Morgen, dear, what are you doing?"

"What I should've done the minute I met you, Damien." She aimed a fist at his face, then hit him in the stomach at the last second. He grunted and lurched forward. Morgen kneed him savagely in the nose, snapping his neck back. Blood gushed down his face. Moreau recovered faster than she anticipated, landing a punch on the side of her face. Morgen staggered backwards into the desk. Moreau kicked at her knee, but she grabbed his ankle and thrust it towards the ceiling, sending him flying onto his back. His head cracked against the carpeted floor. She sprang after him, landing with her knees on either side of his chest. With one arm, she leaned on his throat. With the other, she put her gun to his temple.

"Morgen!"

She glanced up. Nate and the rest of the crew stood together just inside the door. Cofsky and his goons laid scattered across the room. Eliot and Nate had both taken steps forward, their eyes wary.

"So, Morgen, is this how you end it?" Moreau gasped. "Shoot me in front of your dear brother before you die yourself?"

"Don't, Morgen!" Eliot warned. "He's not worth it."

"Maybe not to you, Eliot, but he might be to me," Morgen growled, pressing the gun harder into Moreau's skin. "He might be to me."

"You've never killed anyone, Morgen," Moreau sneered. "Do you really think your anger will be able to do so now?"

Morgen smiled. "You think you know so much about me, Damien. You always thought you knew me, even before you met me. First, I was Eliot Spencer's nameless hot sister. Then I was Morgen Spencer, Damien Moreau's favorite spy. You decided what I would think, say, feel, and do. But you don't know who I am. You know nothing about me other than what you made. So I am perfectly capable of pulling this trigger and blowing your brains out onto this carpet."

Pain shot through her stomach, making her bite her lip so hard it bled. She jerked, twisting her arms across the other and moving the gun away. She felt Moreau grab her hands, but she couldn't think through the pain.

When she came back to reality she found herself on the floor with Moreau on top of her, her gun under her chin.

"Predictable as always, Morgen dear. One move and I shoot her," he called. Morgen craned her head and saw Eliot stop, his jaw clenched.

"Now," he turned back to her, "you may not have it in you to kill someone, but I do. Although, I see you don't have much time left anyways, so I might just let you suffer here for a while before I kill you and your friends."

Morgen grunted as her insides burned like fire. The cold metal under her jaw provided the only relief for her feverish skin, and beads of sweat dripped down her forehead. She felt a scream begin to build in the back of her throat.

"There's one thing… you haven't thought of yet, Damien," she gasped out.

He frowned.

"Where your sitting."

Morgen pulled her hand free and batted away the gun. Then, she placed her hands on his shirt, pulled him forward, and rolled onto her side, putting Moreau on the floor. Eliot rushed over to Moreau and gave him a swift blow to the head. Moreau lay still.

Morgen dragged herself to Moreau and ran her fingers through his coat, placing the memory stick with the documents she had stolen in a front pocket. Outside, the sound of sirens could be heard.

"Come on, we gotta go!" Eliot cried.

Morgen found a syringe and a large vial with the clear liquid and slid them into her pocket. Eliot scooped her up into his arms and ran out after Nate and the others. Morgen tried to control her shaking.

"The side door, Nate!" she yelled. "Eliot, we're going to wrong way."

Her vision grew black as another wave of pain washed over her. She heard herself scream and felt Eliot's arms hold her tighter.

Her vision cleared. Eliot had directed the team through the hallways in the direction of the side door.

"Are we going to right way, Morgen?" Eliot asked.

"Yeah… yeah we are. The door leads to an alley. My car is out there. We can get out in the dark." She grunted again.

"Hang on, Morgen, we're almost there." Eliot's voice sounded worried.

"Just try not to… break my neck."

The door came into sight. Nate stopped and looked around the corner.

"The coast is clear. C'mon!"

They raced through the door and out to the car. Nate and Sophie took the front seats, and the other four clambered into the back. Eliot kept Morgen in his lap. Her shaking became involuntary, and she laid her head against the seat, shivering hard.

"Morgen, did you find the antidote?"

Morgen took the syringe and vial out of her pocket. "I have to have… the entire thing… for this to work."

"Good."

Eliot massaged her arms as she groaned loudly. Nate pressed the gas pedal to the floor. Parker giggled like a little girl as the scene of the warehouse disappeared behind them and they sped back to the city. Morgen closed her eyes, trying not to scream. Eliot pressed her close to his chest, wiping the sweat away and running his fingers through her hair.

X

The next morning, Morgen awoke on the couch in her apartment, where Eliot had gently laid her during the night. She stared at the ceiling for a while, letting the memory of last night roll over her. She remembered nothing beyond Eliot kicking her door down and laying her on the cushions, and Nate's face as he filled the syringe with the antidote.

_It must've worked, since I'm awake. I feel like I've been run over by a train. Where is everybody? It's so quiet._

Carefully, she pushed herself up and looked around. Her arms shook, but she forced them to hold her weight. The room told of a crazy night. The coffee table was across the room. The two chairs she had carefully placed were sitting next to her head.

_Eliot and Nate must've sat there._

Muddy footprints crisscrossed the once clean carpet. And in the middle of it was the still form of Eliot. He was wrapped in a blanket, his arm tucked under his head.

_Ninety minutes of sleep won't cut it this time. He probably didn't sleep at all in the warehouse._

She swung her legs out of the blanket and onto the floor. Instantly, Eliot's eyes snapped open and he was at her side.

"Don't get up, Morgen," he said softly. "What do you want?"

"To get up," she insisted, but she allowed him to push her back. "Where is everyone? What happened?"

Eliot sat next to her and brushed her hair back.

_He's going to keep my on this couch all day. I won't mind as long as I can get rid of Nate and his team._

"I brought you in last night and set you here. You were so white I thought you were dead already. Nate injected you with the antidote, and we waited. You finally started to regain some color, and Nate and the others found spots to sleep in the other rooms. Parker wanted to stay out here to see if you woke up." He chuckled. "She said something about you popping up like a jack-in-the-box. I told her to go to sleep."

Morgen smiled. "I would've disappointed her anyways. Are they all still in my room?"

"Probably."

"Any chance they won't come out all day?"

"So ready to be rid of us?"

Morgen cringed as Sophie and Nate entered.

"How are you feeling?" Nate asked, crouching in front of her.

"Weak. If I wanted to get rid of you, I would've let Damien kill you all in the first place." She looked at Nate, but she directed the comment to Sophie. The older woman raised her eyebrow, but kept silent.

"How are you and the others?" Morgen asked.

"Fine. Your house is freezing, though. Do you even turn on the heat?"

"I lived in a cold environment for most of my childhood. I'm used to it, I guess."

"Well, we were just leaving." Nate stood and wrapped an arm around Sophie. "Parker and Hardison are leaving, too. We'll be back tonight. Give you a chance to catch up."

"Yeah, Morgen, can I talk to you quickly?" Sophie asked. Morgen studied her expression. Eliot started to get up.

"Uh, Nate, why don't we…"

"No, Eliot, you two stay here. I'll go into the kitchen and get myself some breakfast." Morgen pushed herself up off the couch determinedly. Her legs felt like jelly, and the sudden motion sent the room into a spinning whirl, but she gritted her teeth and led a slightly stunned Sophie into the kitchen. Morgen pulled the oatmeal and a bowl out of the pantry and placed them on the counter.

"What's on your mind, Miss Devereaux?" she asked warily.

Sophie stared at the counter for a moment, running her fingernail across its surface.

"I know I haven't been the nicest to you," she began, "and I do have a reason for that. I care very much for this little family, and you had the potential to ruin it. I am not sorry for anything I said, nor am I sorry for that slap yesterday. However, I do feel I need to say thank you."

Morgen had just placed a spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth and almost choked on it. She managed to swallow it down, though, and she leaned incredulously on the countertop.

"Thank me? If anything, you should hate me. I tried to get your team caught, then tried to keep them safe, then managed to get them caught anyway."

"But you saved us instead of leaving us and taking care of yourself," Sophie said kindly.

Morgen shrugged, feeling uncomfortable suddenly. Sophie left, and Morgen heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. She sat in a chair and played with her cold breakfast. Eliot came in.

"Everything okay?"

She frowned. "I don't know. I think Sophie was being nice to me and apologized in an obscure way. I think."

Her head swam. She closed her eyes momentarily. "I think I'm ready to sleep some more, Eliot," she said, slurring her words a little.

X

Morgen spent the entire day alternating between sleeping with her head on her brother's shoulder and catching up on the last five years with him. Morgen did most of the listening, prodding her reserved brother for stories she knew he wouldn't otherwise tell.

"You can't keep secrets from me, Eliot," she laughed at one point. "I'm going to get everything out of you one way or another."

"Speaking of secrets," Eliot said, "I have questions for you, Morgen."

She sighed. "First Nate interrogates me, and now you. What do you want to know?"

"Why didn't you tell me Moreau poisoned you?"

"Ah. Skip right to the fun stuff." Morgen made a wry face. "I don't know, Eliot. I was scared. Damien controlled all of us, and I didn't' want him to hurt you. I thought you would go after him when you found out, and he wouldn't let you get away with it."

"I would've been fine."

"I didn't want to take the chance. You took care of me, and it was my turn to take care of you."

Eliot kissed the top of her head. "And you did a very good job, too."

Morgen wriggled until her head was under his arm and on his chest. Her eyelids were growing heavy again, and she fought to keep them open.

"I love you, Eliot."

"I love you, too, Morgen."


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, Morgen woke up on the couch again. Eliot had stayed at her side all day, and he slept on the floor. She smiled.

_Eliot is quite proud of his ninety minutes of sleep._ She set her feet on the ground quietly. He didn't stir.

_He's out cold. He won't wake up for at least another hour. Enough time to slip out without anyone noticing._

She stood and walked silently to her bedroom, stepping carefully over the sleeping Parker and Hardison in the hallway. The door was shut. Morgen peeked in and smirked at the two forms in her bed.

_Sophie might be okay with me, but she won't be if she finds out I'm in here._

Morgen crept in on the balls of her feet and grabbed the duffel bag in her closet. It was small, but she had managed several months ago to stuff in several changes of clothes, an extra cell phone, and most of her favorite gadgets. She slung it over her shoulder and retraced her steps out of the room and down the hallway. Eliot was still asleep in the living room. She leaned down and kissed his cheek gently.

"Goodbye, Eliot," she whispered. "Don't worry about your little sister anymore."

Morgen stopped in the kitchen and shoved food into her bag. It was still dark outside, and the light of the refrigerator was blinding.

"Leaving so soon?"

She whirled around. Nate stood in the entryway, still in his t-shirt and shorts. Morgen shut the door.

"I don't do those weepy goodbyes very well."

She waited for him to shout for Eliot or Sophie, but he walked closer to her.

"I figured you didn't. Don't you think Eliot will want to see you off, though?"

_He's not going to wake everyone up. He's still whispering._

"I said my goodbye to him yesterday. He'll understand."

Nate nodded. "Where are you going? What are you going to do?"

Morgen started to give him the answer she had made up, then stopped. _No sense in lying to a con man. He'll figure it out anyway._

"I'm going back in time. Taking care of some unfinished business with old enemies."

"Are you coming back?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. If I live long enough. Not really sure, though."

"You could always join the team. You get along with everyone pretty well, and we could use your talents and gadgets."

Morgen shook her head. "I don't think so, Nate. I'm not a very good team player, even if one of the team is Eliot. And besides," she grinned, "I don't think your girlfriend would be too happy if I stayed."

"Well, think about it then. You might change your mind after a while."

_No I won't._

Morgen merely shrugged, then pushed past him to the back door. She opened it. The cool early morning air swept into the kitchen, and she breathed it in.

"I don't know when I'll be back, Nate," she said, still looking outside. "I'm too much of a wanderer to stay in one place for long. But I did promise you that I would give you a name before I left."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yes I do. Eliot at least should know, and I'm sure you all wouldn't mind finding out either. Reuben can answer your questions. Eliot will want to meet him anyway. You could have Hardison hack into the files of the Russian mafia, but even he won't be able to keep them from finding his software."

She handed a piece of paper to Nate. "Please give this to Reuben. I told him I'd find him once this whole Moreau thing was over, but… uh…"

"You don't want to get him involved." Nate took the paper and put it into a pocket. "You know he'll want to go after you."

Morgen flushed, and she was thankful that the room was still dark. "You're pretty good at reading people, Nate."

"I know it's none of my business, Morgen, but I think you should take him with you. He seems strongly attached to you."

The longing she had felt for Reuben in Moreau's warehouse came rushing back. "I would ask him to go with me, but I don't want him to get caught in the crossfire."

"He may put himself there anyway."

Morgen smiled. "He probably will."

She stepped outside and walked over to the sleek motorcycle leaning against the wall.

"Reuben won't tell you what you want to know unless you know the name," she called out to Nate. She swung her leg over the seat and turned on the engine. "It's Nadya Marya McLennan." Her eyes began to glow.

"Goodbye, Morgen," Nate yelled.

Morgen revved the engine, a wild grin spreading over her face. "I'll send you a postcard!"

She lifted the kickstand, revved the engine again, and took off down the street, her duffle bag secured in the seat. Nate watched her go until she was out of sight.

"She's gone, isn't she?"

Nate didn't turn to look at Eliot. "Yep."

"I knew she wasn't going to stay long. She would've left yesterday if she could stand." Eliot came and stood by Nate. "She was never one to stay in one place."

"She gave me a name to look into. Nadya Marya McLennan. Sound familiar?"

"Never heard it before."

"I guess we should visit her friend, Reuben, then. She said he'll be able to give us the information.

X

Nate woke up the team and explained where they were going. Everyone agreed to visit Reuben, so Nate drove them back to the alley where he and Morgen had been two days ago. The gangs were no longer hanging around. Nate had no trouble finding the apartment Reuben lived in.

Eliot knocked. When there was no answer, he pounded with his fist.

"Who's there?"

"Reuben, this is Nate Ford. We met once a few days ago when Nadya needed information."

Eliot frowned, but Nate waved the question away.

The door opened. Reuben glared suspiciously at the Leverage team.

"Why are you here? Has something happened to Nadya?"

"She said you would be able to tell us about her. And she wanted me to give something to you."

Reuben hesitated, then took a step back and opened his door. "Come in, please."

Reuben led them through his apartment and was introduced to everyone in turn. He smiled politely when Eliot told him Morgen was his sister.

"She speaks very highly of you, Eliot," he said. Eliot smiled thinly.

The Leverage crew sat in Reuben's living room, sipping their hot tea. Nate handed the paper Morgen gave him to Reuben. He opened it up and read it quickly.

"Well, she says that she wants me to tell you everything, so I guess I'll start at the beginning." He sat himself in an old chair. "Morgen Spencer, as I'm sure you've guessed, is not her real name. She was born Nadya Marya McLennan, and her life has not been a happy one.

"Nadya's father was the only son of Jack McLennan, who ran one of the Irish mobs, and her mother the daughter of a Russian mafia leader. Her mother's name was Vera, but she never told me her father's name, and she never told me how they met. But they did, and they fell in love. They married in secret and ran away to Switzerland, where Nadya was born. They lived there for three years until Vera's father found them and brought them back to Russia. Vera and her husband were executed in front of Nadya, and her grandfather took her in to raise her. He did not love her like a grandfather should. He saw her as a potential member of his mafia when she was of age, so he trained her in the art of stealing and killing.

"That's where we met. I was the son of one of the members of the mafia, and since we were around the same age her grandfather let us train together. I think I'm the only friend she had in Russia. She hated her grandfather. I remember her telling me how she was going to kill him when she had the chance to do it and run away." He shook his head sadly. "We were children, and she was plotting murder. I wanted to help her escape, but I saw no opportunity.

"About the time she was eight, her grandfather wanted to go to the States for business. He decided to take her with him so she could gain experience." He shook his head again. "Nadya was thrilled. She told me she would write to me when she had gotten away from her grandfather and would try to get me out of the mafia.

"They left. I waited for a letter. I never got it. I found my way to the States and out of the mafia, then I went to find her. I knew her grandfather had taken her to Texas, so that's where I started. I eventually found her. It was three years after she had left Russia, but she was different. She was happy to see me, I think, but she was worried her grandfather's men would follow me. She explained that once they had made it to Texas, she had killed her grandfather and run away. Nadya didn't say how she killed him, and I didn't ask. She told me she was living with a family who had adopted her and told me to go make a new life for myself, that she was okay now. I didn't want to leave her, but I did. I left for the cities. She wrote to me a couple of times, telling me she was okay. Then the letters stopped, and it was a long time before I found her again. She was working for Moreau then, and she wanted to leave. She was beginning to hate him as much as she hated her grandfather. And you know the rest of the story."

The room was silent. Sophie sniffed and wiped her eyes. Eliot had sat through the entirety of the story with his elbows on his knees. Now, he placed his head in his hands and cleared his throat.

"Before she left," Nate said somberly, "Nadya mentioned that she was going back in time to take care of unfinished business with old enemies. Do you know what she means?"

Reuben raised his eyebrows. "She's probably going back to Russia to have her revenge on the person who killed her parents. Her grandfather's dead, so she'll go after her cousin. He's the one who pulled the trigger. That's exactly what she said?"

Nate nodded. "She said she had to go alone. She didn't want to endanger anyone. She wanted you to go with her, but she won't ever ask you. She can't think about you getting hurt because of her."

Reuben said nothing. Eliot looked up, his eyes still glassy, and walked over to Reuben, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You gotta go after her, man."

Reuben stared at Eliot, surprised. "But she is your sister! Don't you want to go find her?"

"More than you can imagine. That doesn't matter, though. You've known her longer than I have, and she'll want to see you. Go find her and keep her safe."

Reuben nodded. "I will. Thank you, Eliot."

Nate and the Leverage team left Reuben preparing to catch the first plane to Russia. The car trip back to McRory's was quiet.

"That poor girl," Sophie said. "I do hope Reuben finds her. She deserves a little happiness after what she's been through."

"He'll find her. He's determined." Nate kept his gaze on the road.

"What's Morgen going to do?" Parker asked. "Is she going to kill somebody?"

"She'll want to, Parker," Eliot answered. "She'll want to."

Nate turned into McRory's. They all climbed out and walked into the bar. Inside, a young man sat at the counter. When he saw Nate, he stood and started to come forward.

"She'll let us know when she can what's happened," Nate said. "Until then, we have other things to worry about."

The door to the bar closed, and the Leverage team listened to the young man who needed their help, each hoping Reuben would reach Morgen in time.


	7. Epilogue

Several months passed. Moreau was put in prison for life, having acquired multiple criminal charges from multiple countries and states. Nate did some digging himself, of course, and discovered a flash drive had been found on Moreau the day of his arrest, containing files that placed him in the midst of undercover illegal activities the authorities had never been able to convict him of.

"Another one of Morgen's tricks," Eliot smiled when Nate told the team.

"Have you heard anything from her?" Sophie asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Do you think Reuben found her?" Parker asked.

Eliot shrugged.

"Maybe she found her cousin and shot him," she continued, a little too gleefully. "Maybe Reuben and Morgen are in hiding, and—"

"Reuben may not have found her yet," Hardison interjected, "and Morgen may not be able to contact us yet."

Parker's mouth twisted disappointedly. "I'm just sayin'," she muttered.

"Yes, well," Nate said, "I have heard something."

He slapped two sheets of paper on the table. "I just got these this morning. Read the one out loud, Eliot, the other one is for you."

Eliot had picked up the papers and read them to their full extent by the time Nate finished speaking. He folded one letter carefully and shoved it into his back pocket, then began to read the second.

_Dear Leverage team,_

_As you will have guessed by now, since you are reading this, I am safe. I cannot tell you where I am at the moment because if this letter were intercepted by someone connected to the Russians, we would be in jeopardy. Reuben found me in Russia and convinced me to change my mind about seeking revenge. _

_Yes, that was my plan. I was going to kill the man responsible for killing my parents. However, Reuben convinced me otherwise and took me away, but not before the Russians discovered I am in fact alive. Even now, they are looking for me, and I will be in hiding for a while. It'll be some time before it's safe enough for me to visit you all. _

_There isn't much more to tell about me. I guess all I have left to say is thank you. Thank you for helping me free myself from Damien. I saw online he was in prison, and I'll be sure to keep him there if he thinks about escaping. Thank you for being my friends. I didn't think it was possible to change, and you all showed me I could. I miss you terribly, and Hardison, when I get back we're going to have a rematch at Mario Kart. I've learned a few things._

_ See you soon._

_ Morgen_

Eliot folded the letter and tossed it on the table. Everyone was silent for a few moments. Then Parker and Hardison silently left, then Sophie. Nate and Eliot didn't say anything at first.

"Well," Nate finally said quietly, "it seems she found her happy ending Sophie said she deserves."

Eliot nodded. "Where's your letter?"

Nate acted surprised. "My letter?"

Eliot smirked. "C'mon, man, I know Morgen, and I know you. Where's your letter?"

Nate pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket. He set it on the table and went to pour himself a drink. "Open it up, read it."

_Nate, I know you were the one who told Reuben where I was going. That was probably the worst thing you could've done. Reuben nearly got himself killed! He's not going to leave my side again, and I'm going to have to protect him from my Russian relatives._

_Thanks._

Eliot chuckled. "She was never very good at saying thank you graciously. She said something similar to me."

Nate swallowed and sighed. "So I guess everything's cleared up now. She and Reuben will take care of their enemies, no doubt, and she'll be back to visit eventually." He stood. "You know, I offered her a place with the team. She said she'd think about it. You think she'll…?"

Eliot shook his head. "Morgen doesn't like working with too many people. They tend to get in her way."

He smiled and left Nate's apartment. He was quiet all the way out to his truck, and no one bothered him outside. It was cold, and the wind added a frosty bite. He climbed into his car and sat for a moment, then pulled out the wrinkled letter Morgen had written and read it once more.

_Eliot, Reuben said you were the one who told him to come find me. He said you told him to keep me safe. I should be angry with you, especially since Reuben almost died._

_But I'm not. Thank you, Eliot. You were the best brother I could've hoped for. You cared for me, loved me, and taught me to think about others. I miss you so much right now it hurts, but I don't want you to try and find me until it's safe. I've already got one man to worry about._

_I love you, Eliot Spencer. Don't think about me too much. I'll be back._

**_End Part Two_**


End file.
